POI 1x05 Tag
by ninjadevil2000
Summary: Missing scene to Person of Interest episode 1x05 "Judgement." Between John being shot by the boys kidnappers and returning to the library and Finch.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Person of Interest nor any of the characters. Only the story is mine.**

**Author's Note: Missing scene from 1x05 - Judgement. Between John being shot and going back to the library and Harold.**

**Now, I love the friendship/bromance between John and Harold but I agree with a lot of others that their relationship came awful close to full on romance, so this can be read as either fluffy friendship or romantic because I sorta wrote it as both. Major whump!John because whump is an addiction of mine, both to write and read.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story and please please leave a review. I'd love to know what you think. :)**

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John heard the car screech away as he lay facedown on the pavement. Grimacing, he used his uninjured arm to prop himself into a sitting position and searched his pocket for his phone. He made to call Finch, but then he saw that the screen was completely cracked. No use now.

He swore. Then, moving to stand up, he swore again as the movement jolted his shoulder. Stepping over a few paces to lean against a nearby tree, John reached his uninjured arm to reach around and feel his back. It seemed that the bullet was still embedded in his shoulder, meaning that he would need to get back to the library and have Finch help him withdraw the bullet.

Somehow, with many pauses and deep breaths, John was able to make it to where his car was parked a block away. Opening the door, he sighed with relief as he sat down. He closed his eyes for a moment, but then, realizing how much his shoulder was bleeding, he knew that that was not a smart idea. At least not until he had the wound patched up.

Turning the key and starting the car was easy enough, but steering was slightly difficult due to the listlessness of his left arm. Somehow, he managed it and was soon on the road back towards the library. Hitting a streetlight and braking, he leaned over and grabbed a cloth from the glove compartment and pressed it against his shoulder, hissing between his teeth. He had quite a high pain tolerance, but still, a bullet wound never felt _good_.

After wincing many times during the drive through the curving rundown streets of New York, John finally made it to the library.

He made his way up the stairs, shrugging off his coat as he did so. He felt the blood coursing down his arm and chest and pressed the already drenched cloth harder onto the wound.

"John!" Harold's voice echoed through the library. John heard the limping steps of the other man approaching and, just as he reached the landing, Finch reached him.

"What happened? I tried calling but there wasn't any –" he stopped dead. His eyes had landed on John's shoulder and the soaked cloth and shirt.

"Well, the kid's been captured and I got shot, so it's not been the best day today, Harold," John deadpanned. "I'm gonna need your help with this," he muttered, striding past Harold and grabbing the first-aid kit from a nearby table. Sitting down on a nearby stool, John inhaled deeply before starting to pull the cloth away from his shoulder. Then, he started to unbutton his shirt, but it wasn't very easy with only one hand to do it with.

"Here," Finch said, walking towards John.

"Thanks," John muttered, opening the first-aid box and pulling out the necessary items as Finch unbuttoned his shirt. John couldn't help but stiffen slightly at the contact, but he relaxed after a moment.

Once Harold was finished, John pulled the shirt away from the shoulder, his teeth gritted.

"Okay," he said, after the shirt had been pulled away. Luckily, the shoulder wasn't bleeding as badly anymore and John was able to get a look at it. "Finch, hold that mirror for me," he said.

Finch picked up the nearby mirror and John positioned it properly, before grabbing a pair of forceps from the kit. He looked in the mirror, occasionally glancing down at the wound. After taking a deep breath, John gingerly inserted the forceps into the raw flesh. He had to pause after a moment, however, because Harold had turned away and his hands were trembling, therefore causing the mirror to shake as well.

"You know, this isn't the first time I've been shot, Harold," John said.

Finch looked at the man's face, then tentatively down at his form. Noticing how many scars the skin carried, Finch had to admit that John was indeed right. And from the placement of some of those scars, Finch would say that this one wasn't nearly the worst. Still, that did not deny the fact that John was indeed shot and had lost a fair amount of blood.

"Harold, I don't have enough hands," John said, growing rather impatient from the pain. "I could do it alone if I had to, but I'd rather not because it could go wrong."

Harold swallowed and nodded. He took a deep breath before lifting the mirror again and holding it steady.

John was able to withdraw the bullet after just another moment before patching it up with some gauze.

"Thanks, Harold," John said gratefully. Like he had said, he could've handled it himself if necessary but he found it nice to have someone there. A partner, even though Finch was technically his boss.

Still, the kidnapping of Sam weighed heavily on John's mind and he quickly shrugged on a new shirt. "I can't be there in time if I'm getting bad information."

"The Machine did not send us the wrong number," Finch said, rather indignantly. "If it says that Judge Gates is in danger, then he is."

"Well, tell that to his son," John said, irritated, both at himself for losing the boy and at Finch for acting seemingly unaffected.

"The kidnapping must connect. It could be the first step in a larger plot that end with the judge dead," Finch said, trying to connect the dots. "We can still put a stop to it. All of it. But we need a plan," he added.

"I have a plan," John said. He grabbed his suit from the table, as well as a new phone Finch had ready for him. "Find Sam. The man just lost his wife. I won't let him wind up alone." He grabbed his gun and clicked the magazine, before leaving without another word.


End file.
